


What could have been

by Mardale



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, i am just a biased piece of shit okay, nothing wrong happens to the starks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 08:50:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12009258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mardale/pseuds/Mardale
Summary: based on a prompt arranged marriage for theon/sansa. sorry if there are any mistakes grammar/plot wise, english is not my first language and it has been a while since I watched first seasons of got. also, i spent a few good hours writing this, so you spending a few seconds writing a comment would be nice.and big thanks to theonbaejoys for giving me this prompt ;)





	What could have been

\- I have a son, you have a daughter. Let’s join our houses.

Ned looks at his best friend, his face as emotionless as ever, as he is not surprised. It feels like the silence that falls between the two of them after Robert says his last word is eternal. Thoughts fly in Ned’s head, but he can’t quite catch them, it is just a stream of unconcious memories, Jon Arryn’s letters, gossip about the young prince that somehow reached Winterfell, Sansa’s fascination with knights and princes, the Lannisters with their traps.

It all spins in his head, and then in the corner of his eye he sees Lyanna’s face.

He blinks, and looks right into Robert’s eyes, his voice deep and rasp.

\- No.

It is not the answer Robert expected, his face twists in surprise.

\- No?

He repeats Ned’s words like a clueless child, confused and demanding an explanation. Neither of them lets down his gaze, as Lord Stark repeats, this time quieter.

\- No.

Robert processes the information for a second, swallowing loudly. He turns his head away, and then back at Ned.

\- Can you at least explain why you are turning down your King’s offer, Lord Stark?

\- Of course, your Grace.

They speak to each other by titles, as this is no longer a conversation between two friends, that just happen to be the ruler and his vasal. No, now it is the King questioning a high Lord, and not even a glimpse of friendship can be seen in their behaviour.

Robert doesn’t know that he just made the whole thing easier for his friend. Ned Stark still doesn’t like lying to his friend, but he has been lying to the King for years. And so his voice only shakes a little bit, which can be easilly explained by coldness of the tombs, as he states.

\- My daughter already is bethrothed, your Grace. My older one, at least. No arrangement of sorts ties my younger one, so a match for her could be considered.

But it won’t be, Ned thinks, Cersei won’t agree to tie her precious son with a girl this young. And certainly not with a girl so different from the perfect southron lady, both in character and appearance.

Robert knows that too, his face twisted with anger.

\- Everyone will know that the younger girl was chosen only because you refused to give your older one. I won’t have myself humiliated like that.

You mean Cersei won’t.

\- Of course, your Grace, forgive me.

\- And seven hells, who is she even bethrothed to? I knew of nothing as I was leaving for WInterfell.

Ned falls even deeper into the pit of lies, as he responds with the name he was coming up with for last few minutes.

\- Theon Greyjoy, your Grace.

***

Theon leaves the rooms first, while Jon is still having his hair cut. Greyjoy is alone, as Robb has stayed behind as well. He is curious of all those people that came from King’s Landing, but to avoid being obvious and noticed, he pulls out his sword and starts cleaning it. He watches those strangers, in their colorful clothes, as they run around, carrying all these things that the royal family appareantly needs.

When he gets bored of the sight, he focuses on the steel again. Someone stands in front of him, and before he fully lifts his gaze, the person speaks up. He is being sumonned to Lord Stark’s chambers.

***

\- My Lord.

Theon bows, and looks at Lord Stark with curiosity, his head tilted slightly, making him look sarcastic and more confident than he actually is (it is a psychological trick, that he uses often and unconciously).

Ned Stark is already standing, as if he was waiting for the young Greyjoy. He shows Theon the chair, but remains standing on his part.

Lord Stark paces slowly around the room, as if he is trying to get his thoughts together. Finally he sits down, and puts his hands together, his body leaning forward, his grey eyes fixated on Theon’s.

\- Do you remember the day you arrived here?

\- Briefly. It was snowing, that I recall vividly. But it usually does here.

Ned almost smiles at that, but his eyes stay cold and focused.

\- I remember that as well. Your mouth dropped when snow fell on you. But as soon as you saw I was looking at you, you closed it and tried to look unimpressed.

Theon puts his eyes down, a little embarassed, but then quickly raises them up.

\- Is that why you sumonned me, my Lord? To talk about what was so long ago?

\- Yes. And about what is now. But most importantly, about what is to be.

Theon squints his eyes together, as his guardian continues.

\- The King asked me to bethroth his son and Sansa. I refused.

Theon furrows his brows with confusion.

\- W-why, my Lord?

The older man sighs.

\- To be honest I don’t know yet. I may be a fool, perhaps I am, but think of everything you know about the prince and the royal family Theon, and tell me it would be a good place for my daughter.

Theon recalls the disgust on the prince’s face as he entered Winterfell, the tension between the King and the Queen, the servant falling on the ground under the heavy chest, with the prince laughing at him and then spitting on him, as if inadvertently.

Displeasure must show on his face, as Lord Stark doesn’t wait for his words, just states:

\- Exactly.

Theon blinks several times, trying to divert the thoughts of the royal family, Jeoffrey especially.

\- It is a great dishonor for King, to be turned down like that, my Lord. Especialy without a reason, for I assume you couldn’t have told him what you just told me.

\- I may be a fool, but not a one big enough to offend the King’s family without a vivid proof. I did give him a reason for my refusal, however. Sansa is to be bethrothed. Just not to the prince.

A thought flashes through Theon’s mind, but before he can voice it, Lord Stark does it for him.

\- I want to announce her bethrothal to you Theon, before the day is over.

***

Sansa looks with pride at the embroidery on her dress she just finished. It is a big blue rose, placed right where her waist is. She touches the fabric, and smiles at the softness of it. She holds the dress in front of her, imagines how beautifully it will look on her, and perhaps a knight (or even a prince!) will compliment her on it.

She swirls around, as if she was already at the feast. She closes her eyes, the dress waves around her. She imagines dancing with the prince on the feast, maybe even a few times. And then her mind wanders to the future, and she imagines they will soon dance together at their wedding. She is not supposed to think about it, nothing is sure of course, but the king himself called her a beauty, and septa told her no other girl in the seven kingdoms would be better fitted for a prince’s wife. And Jeoffrey smiled at her, didn’t he?

As she finishes the turn, she opens her eyes.

And that’s when she notices Theon is standing in her room.

She blushes and quickly hangs the new dress back in the closet. Then she curtseys lightly, as perfect a lady as always. Only her voice shows she is in fact annoyed.

\- You should knock Theon.

He smirks at her.

\- It is a pretty dress. If I knocked I wouldn’t have seen it.

\- Yes you would, I am wearing it for the feast tonight.

\- I am sure you will look beautiful in it then.

She looks at him with confusion, as Theon and her rarely talk, and it is probably the first time he gave her a compliment. She doesn’t know how to react, so she does what she does best: acts like a proper lady and smiles.

\- Thank you.

He nods, then looks at the door and points at it.

\- Lord Stark, your father sent me. He wants to see you in his study.

Sansa nods her head.

\- Of course.

He lets her through the door, and she bows her head, as she expects him to go somewhere else. He doesn’t though, just keeps on standing next to her.

She raises her brow, and he catches her confusion.

\- I am to escort you. Shall we?

He smirks and offers her his arm. She accepts with just a little hestitance.

He may not be a knight, but she feels like a true lady, as they wander the corridors together.

***

She expects Theon to leave the room as soon as she lets go of his arm, but he doesn’t move, not right away at least. He just looks at her father, and as the latter one nods his head, Theon bows and exits the room, closing the door behind him.

She is a little confused, but stops thinking about that as she moves her full attention to her father.

He smiles at her, and slides the chair for her to sit. She smiles back as she sits down. He sits as well, and they sit in the silence for a while.

Surprisingly Sansa doesn’t mind it, actually enjoys her father’s company, more than she usually would. Not that she doesn’t love him, of course she does, but teenage daughters tend to feel that their fathers can’t quite understand them, and vice versa. She is not much different on a daily basis. But this time she suspects what he wants to talk to her about, and excitement puts her in a good mood, as well as makes her more patient and forgiving.

When her father finally starts talking, she smiles widely, and that eases his worries.

\- I am sorry I am taking you away from the preparations. You must be excited for a feast that grand.

\- I still have some time. I have just fnished my dress when Theon came for me. He likes it. I hope you will too.

\- You made it dear, it must be beautiful. Septa says you are the most talented sewer she has ever taught.

Sansa blushes because of the compliment, lets her gaze down modestly. Her father smiles with a corner of his mouth, and raises her chin so their eyes can meet.

\- You are so beautiful Sansa. Just as beautiful as your mother was when we married, and as she still is.

Ned smiles to his memories.

\- You will be a woman grown so soon, and as much as I hate to think about you leaving home.. you will marry someday.

Sansa nods, and her suspicions are now pretty much confirmed.

\- Of course the wedding itself won’t happen for at least a few years. But today on the feast I will announce your bethrothal to..

To the prince! She thinks, the smile blossoming on her lips.

\- To Theon.

The smile wipes away in a matter of seconds. She stands up quickly.

\- Theon?

Her father nods slowly, concern written on his face. Her mouth is opened in shock, and then she storms off, her skirts slatting behind her.

Ned sighs, and hides his face in his hands.

Could have been worse, right?

***

It is stupid to stand there, Theon thinks. Lord Stark didn’t ask him to, neither did Sansa. They could talk for hours, or even be mad at him, suspect he earsdropped. (Even if he wanted to, the door was far too tight, he knew that since he was eight and first came to Winterfell).

Still he is there, at first stands, then paces around, then sits down. It is awfully long, boring and cold, but he does not leave.

Finally, when his right leg starts to stiffen, the door opens. It is Sansa, but she walks so fast, and in the opposite direction as well, that she doesn’t notice him.

He glances into the room, and sees Lord Stark resting his forehead on his hand. Greyjoy puts two and two together, and realises Sansa couldn’t have taken the news well. He is not sure what he is supposed to do, but interrupting Lord Stark doesn’t seem like a good idea, and it would be weird to just go around his normal activities.

He curses under his breath, and runs in the same direction he last saw Sansa go.

She is not even his wife yet, and life already got more complicated.

***

It can’t be possible, she thinks, her father must have said something wrong. Why would she get bethrothed to Theon now, when the prince was so close, when everyone knew the King would propose a match between the two of them! Father must know this, must realise that she could be a queen!

Why would he choose Theon instead?

She doesn’t love Theon, she loves (okay, maybe not already, but she knew she would love) the prince!

She ran to the godswood, or rather walked very fast (ladies don’t run). She didn’t know why there, it was an instinctive decision. While father and all of her siblings loved the godswood, she felt uncomfortable there. Not as uncomfortable as mother, but still. She prefered the sept, with the stone walls and wooden figures of the Seven. Here, there was no statues, no walls, just water, grass and that tree that she always feared because of the ugliness the face carved in it bore.

And yet, she didn’t run to the sept. She ran here, and sat by that old tree, tears of fury in her eyes.

When she finishes crying, she stares with numbness into the pond.

That’s how Theon finds her.

He isn’t exactly fond of the godswood either. Or any gods for that matter. Of course, he talks about the drowned god, and would never convert to the faith of Seven, or the old gods. But it is more about preserving anything ironborn he has in himself and remembers, than it is about believing. The closest thing to a preyer he does, is repeating his house words every morning and every night. But even that is now more a habit than it was a ceremony.

She doesn’t look at him, and he knows it isn’t because she didn’t notice him. She must have at least heard his footsteps. And she chose to ignore him anyway. (Not very ladylike, he thinks, a hint of smile wandering on his lips).

He doesn’t dare sit next to her, so he stands there awkwardly. Finally he rolls his eyes at his own behaviour, and clears his throat.

\- Am I even allowed to be here? Aren’t your old gods mad when a nonbeliever haunts their sacred ground?

She still doesn’t look at him.

\- I don’t know about gods, but I am mad.

Well, at least she responded, he thinks.

\- Why? Because I am not a pretty prince with golden hair?

As he pronounces “pretty”, he makes an aweful caricature of a curtsey.

She rolls her eyes, so he knows she saw it.

\- Leave me alone Theon.

\- Afraid I can’t. You are now my beloved fiancee afterall.

He grins at her, and she finally looks at him with pure fury.

\- Do. Not. Call. Me. That.

\- Aye. Do you prefer “my love” then? Or maybe “my dear”?

\- Just don’t talk to me. I don’t want to be your love, your dear, and certainly not your wife, ever! And I have no idea where father got that stupid idea from!

\- Why not?

\- Because I will never love you! I love the prince!

He swallows loudly, nods his head, and presses his lips together.

\- I see.

He walks away slowly, but without turning around stops after a few steps.

\- You know, I didn’t ask for it either. And now I am pretty sure I will never love you as well, if you can manage to fall in love with a piece of shit like Jeoffrey just because he is a prince.

Before she can yell at him, he leaves. She clenches her jaw, but doesn’t start crying again.

***

Lord Stark still sits in his study, his forehead pressed into his palm when his wife comes to him.

\- Ned?

She raises his chin, just like he did with Sansa before, and looks into his eyes, her face glowing with a worried, considerate smile. She cups his face with her hands, and he stands up, his hands on her arms.

\- I think our daughter hates me. And you might as well.

She raises her brows, her mimic now sarcastic.

\- It would take a lot for me to hate you. But come, try me.

He sighs, and sits down again. But she is not going to give up that easily, he knows that, so he is not a bit surprised when she sits on his lap and embraces his neck with her hand.

\- Ned, I want to help you, but even I can’t do much when I am unaware of the issue.

He kisses her other hand and hugs her tightly.

\- Robert proposed a match for Sansa today.

\- With Jeoffrey I guess?

Ned nods.

\- I refused.

\- Oh.

She is surprised, but not angry he notices with relief.

\- Is that why Sansa is mad at you?

\- Partially. But also because I made another match for her.

\- So quickly? Robert must be furious.

\- On contrary. I came up with that match to avoid Robert’s fury and pressure.

\- I am afraid I don’t understand love.

He sighs deeply.

\- That’s the compliacted part. I myself don’t quite understand it. But when Robert proposed the match with his son, I just knew I had to say no. Now that I think about it, I can find reasons why this would be a bad idea, but then…. I just looked at Lyanna’s face in that stone and knew I had to refuse.

His wife looks at him with worry.

\- You never spoke of her before.

\- I know. It still… it hurts. And when I think of her I think of Brandon, and my father…

And Jon, he thinks, but doesn’t say it aloud.

\- I understand, Ned, or at least I try to. But still.. what does Lyanna has to do with our daughter’s future?

He picks her up gently, and starts walking around the room. She knows he only does it when he thinks of something troubling, so she silently sits in the chair and waits patiently.

\- Have I ever told you about Lyanna and Robert’s bethrothal?

\- Not much. But I recall he loved her like crazy.

She recalls the King’s urgent need to visit Lyanna’s grave right away, and adds:

\- Still does, I guess.

Ned clenches his jaw.

\- Yes, he loved her. Everyone knows that. But she… she didn’t love him. I know now that she never would. I deluded myself that she just judged him wrong, he was my best friend afterall. He still is… But you know what they say of his marriage to Cersei. I don’t like that woman, nor do I like any Lannister, but if Robert humiliates her like that…. Then I doubt he would treat my sister much better, had she lived.

\- You worry that his son would be just as bad of a husband to Sansa, as Robert is to Cersei.

Catelyn says softly, gets up and walks up to her husband.

\- That is a big possibility. Raised in that pit of snakes, with Cersei and Robert’s influence.. And I heard things Cat. Jon Arryn wrote to me, and while the two younger children are still innocent, Jeoffrey is described as cruel and bad tempered, and those are the light adjectives.

She takes his hand in hers.

\- I understand. And correct me if I am wrong, but when you refused Robert you lied that Sansa is already promised, didn’t you?

He nods.

\- Turns out I am much less honourable than I deceived myself I was.

\- It is family first, then duty, and only then honour Ned.

He smiles.

\- I guess I became a Tully, not you a Stark when we got married.

\- Ned! I survived several winters here, a few without complaining. If that doesn’t make me a Stark, then nothing will.

He chuckles and kisses her on the forehead.

\- Now, let’s go dear, there is still a lot to do for the feast.

She kisses him quickly and turns to the door.

\- Wait! Don’t you want to know who our daughter is bethrothed to?

She smirks.

\- The kraken is not that bad of an option. I will kill him and seriously harm you if he ever hurts Sansa though. My Lord.

She bows slightly and she is gone.

He really doesn’t know what he did to deserve a wife like his Catelyn.

***

He and Sansa are seated next to each other on the feast, and Theon knows Robb, Jon and Arya already noticed that. He tries to look like he doesn’t even notice her, because she sure as hell ignores him. He does glance at her a few times, and he was right before; she does look beautiful in her dress.

Maybe he could tell her that. If he didn’t hate her, that is.

But he does, and his ego is still hurt, so he talks with Robb instead. Robb does ask why Theon is seated next to his sister, but Theon just shrugs his arms and promises they will talk about it when they are alone, not surrounded by half of Winterfell and King’s Landing.

The food is good, wine as well, and Theon could enjoy himself quite well, if it wasn’t for Sansa, or rather her sarcastic glances. He can almost feel her judging him, and if he hates something more than her, it is definitely being judged.

An hour or mabe two into the feast, he notices the prince. The blonde prick is smiling, and that kind of freaks Theon up. He follows Jeoffrey’s gaze, expecting to see a dead kitten there, or something as horrifying. But Jeoffrey stares directly at the space on Theon’s right, and the drowned god knows there is nothing awful there. Except for..

Sansa.

Of course she is smiling at that piece of shit she doesn’t even know, while she resents him. Women and their logic. What did he even do to make her hate him like that?

Even though he doesn’t want to, he begins to go through all his memories concerning Sansa. And he realises he hasn’t exactly been a saint. He recalls scaring her with stories of evil mermaids that love human meat, especially if it comes from eight year old redheads. And then teasing her about wearing her hair up, southorn style when she was 10. And all those other things that didn’t mean much to him, but now that he thinks about it, could have hurt her.

Jeoffrey may be an ass, but she doesn’t know that, while he showed her all his bad sides back then when they were children.

But that doesn’t make smiling at the Lannister okay, especially when she knows they are already bethrothed (a small voice in his heart screams that Sansa doesn’t even want this match, but he tries to ignore it).

Just as Theon starts to consider his options for showing Sansa what her dream prince is really like (just for her safety of course), Lord Stark raises from his seat and silences the crowd.

\- Lords and Ladies. We are honored to host the King and Queen. as well as their children and all other southern guests. It is a splendid feast already, and thus I would like to give all of us another reason to celebrate: mu daughter Sansa and Theon Greyjoy’s bethrothal. Let’s raise our glasses for the happiness of this couple!

The speech is short by the southerners’ standards, but it is the longest one Theon heard him do on an occasion like that (he suspects war speeches must be very different).

Everyone raises their glasses, though the prince does it with a look a disdain on his face (not that Theon is looking at him. he is not. he just happened to catch that with the corner of his eye). As soon as the toast is done however, all the attention drifts away from Theon and Sansa. Or at least most of it. Robb still stares at him, just like Arya stares at Sansa.

Arya’s attention comes from finding the aim, not the bethrothal, appareantly, as seconds later, a lump of the pie lands on Sansa’s cheek and then her pretty dress.

Robb takes Arya out, but Theon doesn’t see it. He looks at Sansa, her lips still opened with shock, her cheek still dirty. She catches his glance, and before either of them says anything, he wipes the dirt away from her face with his own sleeve.

She still looks at him, and so he gets closer to her and whispers:

\- Don’t worry, it is a clean shirt.

She smiles slightly.

It is more than he expected from this night.

***

\- Jon?

He just finished talking with the dwarf, he’d rather be left alone, but appareantly it is not meant for him this night.

\- Theon. Not lying under the table drunk yet? What happened, did the southeners get all the wine before you?

\- I know you didn’t, as serious and brooding as always.

Jon breathes in deeply.

\- Do you have anything to talk to me about? Or am I just random company?

\- I wanted to tell you in person. I didn’t get to tell Robb, or others. Your father did it for me. But you weren’t inside when he gave his speech. Quite a good one, if I am to judge.

\- Theon. What is it?

Greyjoy looks into Snow’s eyes, any trace of sarcasm or smirk gone from his face. His voice is free of cockiness for once, as he states simply.

\- I am to marry Sansa.

Jon laughs unexpectedly.

\- So that’s why you are not lying under the table!

Theon laughs as well, and they stand there, in the night, can’t help themselves, as when one starts to calm down, he looks at the other and can’t help but burst with laugh again.

\- I am marrying Sansa, and you learned to laugh. The world will never be the same Snow.

\- No, I guess not.

They get serious again.

\- Does that mean we are brothers now?

\- If you call me that, I will surely leave for the Wall in a matter of seconds.

\- But does it mean we are-

\- Yes, I guess it does.

Theon chuckles.

\- Are you really leaving?

Jon shrugs his arms.

\- I said I would, I have to.

\- You Starks and your honour.

\- You could develop some, now that you have to court Sansa.

\- I don’t have to court her, we are engaged.

Jon laughs.

\- It is Sansa. You have to court her, or she will never even like you, not to mention love you.

\- Who says I need her to love me?

Jon looks at him with raised brows, but says nothing. They sit in the silence, breathing in cold air.

\- At least wait for the wedding.

\- It won’t happen for years, you know that ri-

\- Exactly.

\- I didn’t know you care for me that much Greyjoy.

\- I don’t. But I wouldn’t wish freezing their balls off on anyone, especially when there is no woman in sight for the rest of your life.

\- Well, you only have one woman for the rest of your life, so your situation is not that much better than mine. And trust me, if I hear of you visiting brothel while you are with Sansa, I will desert from the Wall just to kill you.

\- Me as well!

Robb approaches them, red and warm from the wine he consumed.

Theon curses under his breath.

\- Goodbye freedom.

Robb punches him lightly, and even Jon seems amused. He may not be a one yet, but he already feels like their brother.

He always did, in a way.

***

In the morning, Sansa wakes up happier than she expected. While she dresses herself and brushes her hair, she realises she is not angry anymore. Maybe a little disappointed, but the reality sinked in and tries not to think that she could have been a queen, going south instead of staying here.

She tries not to think about that, and she succeeds more than she fails.

As she makes her way to break the fast with her family, she notices people laying outside on the ground, still asleep after feasting. She doesn’t notice Theon among them, like she usually would after any other feast, and it makes her smile a tiny bit.

She sits next to Rickon, and ruffles his hair.

\- Hi, where is everyone?

Rickon moves his head side to side and shrugs his arms. She smiles at him.

\- We will eat together then.

Her brother lets out a grin, that is still missing a few teeth. She slices some bread for herself as well as for him, and pours a milk into his glass. She tells him about the feast, and promises that when he will be big enough, he will attend them as well.

When Theon enters the hall about half an hour later, she smiles at him shyly, but he doesn’t smile back, his face solemn and pale.

\- Sansa, Rickon.. Bran fell from the tower. 

***

The next days pass like a scary dream, that she wishes she could wake up from. Her mother spends every second with Bran, and Sansa sits with them as well, but never for long. Se can’t look at Bran’s pale face, at her mother’s eyes that are dead and numb. So she wanders around, and goes to the godswood (father sits there a lot as well, and so they will sit in silence together, words are unnecessary).

Suddendly all those thoughts of being a queen, bethrothal to Theon, marriage are gone. It feels silly and wrong to think of future, any kind of it, when her brother may never get to live his.

And then her father leaves, and takes Robb with him.

The nightmare continues, and the ground under her feet is even more unsure now.

It lasts a week, this state of catastrophe, but then trivial life shows up again. There are food stocks to refill, grounds to clean, people to listen to, crops to harvest, trades to be made. Life refuses to stop and wait until the Starks are ready to deal with it. And with Robb and father gone, she is the oldest one, the responsible one.

So she tries to carry the burden of being the Stark in Winterfell, and it takes a while, but finally those people don’t look at her like she is a naive little girl anymore. She tries to fit into the shoes of lady of Winterfell, and does it well: but those shoes are still not hers, they feel weird and she wants Bran to wake up, and mother to wake up from this weird state as well.

As she struggles, she suddendly gains two new allies: Jon and Theon.

None of them knows as much about ruling as father, or even Robb, but together they put more pieces together than they would individually.

She hopes it will be enough.

In this mess she forgets about the bethrothal, until one day she suddendly remembers all the things she told Theon that day in the godswood. She feels silly and embarassed, and tells herself to never think of it again.

But it is hard not to, when he is next to her pretty much all the time, with his sarcastic but helpful council, his smirks and those stupid grey-blue eyes.

And so one of those days when they have breakfast together with Jon, Arya and Rickon (mother still doesn’t leave Bran’s chamber), Sansa sits closer to him and waits for him to finish. He notices that, and eats purposefully slowly, a smirk on his lips.

By the time he is finished, everyone else has left, even Jon, who hestitated with leaving the longest.

\- I take it you want to speak to me, my Lady.

There is something mocking but also soft in the way he pronounces “my Lady”.

\- Yes. I-I wanted to apologize.

He raises his brow.

\- Apologize?

She blushes.

\- For all those things I said in the godswood, about the prince and..

\- And me.

\- Yes. I shouldn’t have, I was just shocked and reacted… badly. Forgive me?

\- Of course. If someone forced me to marry myself I doubt I would be thrilled at the perspective either.

She blushes even harder.

\- Theon, I really am sorry.

He smiles with a corner of his mouth.

\- Me too. For teasing you all the time. And laughing at your hair. And that story about bloodthirsty mermaids.

\- You remember that.

\- It was one of my best stories to be honest. But I am sorry I scared you back then, my Lady.

\- Don’t call me that. Not when we are alone at least. It seems terribly cold.

\- Aye, Sansa.

Their eyes meet, but he clears his throat and gets up quickly.

\- It is high time I left, Jon promised to spar with me. I feel that my muscles are completely gone since I started to think so much.

She smiles.

\- Of course, Theon.

\- Sansa.

He bows and leaves, and she thinks that she likes the way he says her name even more than “my Lady”.

***

They all stare at the dagger.

Her mother’s hands are wrapped in bandages, and Sansa wants to cry. But this is not time for tears. It is time for decisions.

Her mother wants to go to King’s Landing, wants to end the Lannisters for hurting her little boy. Sansa understands her, but she doesn’t want her mother gone. Her hands start shaking, and she is not sure, but she thinks Theon noticed that.

He volunteers to go, and he really is the best option.

But best doesn’t necessiraly mean good.

He smirks as they say goodbye, joking that he will finally experience some adventure, and that she and Jon will be much better without his distracting good looks and jokes.

She laughs at that, and lets him get to the horse. As he gets on the saddle she wonders what would happen if she ran to him now and kissed him.

But he waves one last time and rides away.

She really wishes she had kissed him.

But again there’s no time to think about it, because Bran wakes up.

As soon as that happens Jon wants to leave for the Wall. He says that he is not needed here anymore, that she and her mother will manage the castle perfectly, that he is so grateful for Bran’s recovery, but he needs to go.

She says him she understands, and as he is leaving she doesn’t even hide the tears. She is angry that it is only now that she really allowed him to be her brother, angry that they had so little time.

But he feels he needs to do that. And she respects that.

Without him and without Theon days are boring, but mother teaches her now, shows her what being the Lady of Winterfell should actually look like. Sansa feels embarassed as she notices her previous mistakes, the wrong decisions she made along with Theon and Jon, when they tried to manage on their own. She tells mother that, and that’s when Catelyn Stark hugs her daughter tightly and tells her over and over again that she did a great job, and that she is so proud of her.

Sansa cries in her mother arms, and then they stay up late and talk about everything and nothing. It feels right.

***  
Meanwhile Theon gets to King’s Landing and meets with Robb. They don’t have much time, and the circumstances are far from ideal, but he is still happy to see his friend. That is until Robb tells him war is in the air. Theon wants to know every detail, every reason for those words, but Robb just squeezes his hand really hard and tells him to go home. And when Sansa hugs him several days later, he feels that he really did come home. He missed her, of course he did, but he also missed Bran, and Arya, and Rickon, and the food that they give him, and his bow, and just Winterfell as a whole. This period of time just after he came back from the capitol is rather peaceful. He comes back to training, but without Jon it is more a chore than an entertainment. He also goes horse riding with Bran, after the saddle plans that Tyrion gifted Bran with are made into reality. And finally, he finds time to court Sansa. It is not perfect, he realizes, as there are no tourneys around, nor is he a poet or a musician. But he helps her whenever he can, they go for walks and talk. They are not in love, not yet, but it is good neverthless. At the same time he starts teaching Arya how to shoot and fight. Not that he particularly wants to, but she follows him, watches him practice and then tries to recreate his moves on her own, and he decides it is safer and more productive if he actually helps her. She is talented as hell, and he predicts in a few years she will be much better than he could ever be, at everything. Maybe except for shooting, he thinks and smirks. That time of peace ends when dark wings bring dark words to Winterfell: Jeoffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are a product of incest between the queen and her brother. The King is dead. Lord Stark and Robb fleed the capital. Which means war with Lannisters. Lady Catelyn calls the banners. 

*** 

The banners obviously arrive before Robb and father do. Winterfell is twice as crowded now at least, and Sansa wishes the day had twice as many hours as it does. All those people have their own opinions, needs and issues, and her mother does everything she can to knock some sense into them. With various results. Sansa prays in both the godswood and the sept, begs for her family’s survival in the morning and thanks in the evening, after a whole day of either no, or good news. Father writes that they won’t come all the way to the Winterfell, but want the armies of the Riverlands and the North to meet halfway, in Moat Caitlin. As Sansa reads who is supposed to lead these forces, her chin starts to shake.

She knew that he would leave, she wasn’t naive, but seeing the order written down makes it painfully real and irrevocable. 

Theon himself is excited, cockier than ever and proud that her father trusts him with leading the men to Moat Caitlin. (That’s all he shows at least, but deeep down he is nervous and scared, much more than the people he is supposed to lead). 

Sansa doesn’t cry when they say goodbye. She just squeezes his hand very hard, and stares into his eyes intensly.

\- Come back, do you understand?

\- I will.

He wants to add that he will come back to her, but it seems a declaration too serious, so he smirks at her and leaves without looking back.

If he did, tears would come to his eyes, just as they did when he was leaving Pyke all those years ago. 

***

War is different than he thought it to be. It is cruel and fast, of course, but when tha battles are over and the dead buried, they wait and wait and wait, get almost bored. Until the next battle comes, and in the sounds of dying men and crossing swords he is mad at himself for not enjoying the moments of relative calmness and safety. 

Robb and his father spend most of those quiet days discussing, worrying and rethinking their strategies. Theon is with them often, but he feels that no matter how much he tries to help, the burden on their on their shoulders is big, that they prefer to carry it on their own, without his naive and light insight. 

And so when he leaves them alone, he seeks the company of others. He has a lot of people to choose from, as their force count about 100 thousand of soldiers. But taken his family’s history with the Riverlands, and the overall reputation of the Greyjoys, he doesn’t expect a great enthusiasm and want for his friendship. 

He is right. 

After dark hours spent with the Starks, uncomfortable moments with rather unfriendly companions and bad, sleepless nights, he feels like a ghost, and it truly is a surprise for him to survive each battle. He finds himself waiting for fighting more restlessly than ever before. With a sword or a bow in his hand, there is a simple task before him, and he can etiher succeed and live or fail and die. 

Life besides bloodshed is much more complicated. And that is even before the whores appear. 

It is logical, he guesses, that were many desperate and stressed men are, brothels will sooner or later appear. But this particular camp was free of them for so long, that he didn’t even think of such an option.

Up until one of them comes up to him. 

He responds, of course, it is a habit for him (one that he should probably break). He talks as he normally would, smirks, shows off, makes jokes. there is nothing else, no battle plans, no contemptuous looks. Just sun on his skin and a beautiful, willing girl in front of him. 

She offers what he knew she would offer, and he thinks he is going to go with her, feel what it is to be alive in this camp, where he is basically waiting and bargaining with the death. 

The girl (what even is her name, he can’t remember, he should remember) kisses him and it feels nice, and warm and easy. 

Or at least it did, til he thought of Sansa.

He never talked to her about his adventures with women, not before they got bethrothed and definitely not after, when everything seemed to change so quickly. 

She may not think about all those that came before her. She may forgive those he still looks back to sometimes. But that particular girl who is kissing him, that one won’t be forgotten or forgiven, ever. If Sansa finds out about that, his marriage will end before it even started. 

He enjoys the kiss, like you enjoy your last cigarette before you make the decision to cut it off. But when the girl’s hand goes down to his breeches, he stops her. 

\- Thank you for your services. 

He says, and by saying it to her he also tells it to each and every one of the women he hired before. 

The pouch with gold is much heavier than it should be, and maybe that’s why he feels so light as he walks to his tent. 

***

Her sister is weird, Arya notices. Or, weirder than usually. 

She doesn’t seem to enjoy needlework anymore, as instead of sewing she just holds the needle in her hand and stares into the fabric, until septa reprimends her quietly. Then Sansa nods her head, smiles weakly and makes a few inches of the flawless design, just to suddendly stop again. 

She also sits in the godswood all the time, especially when it’s windy or very cold, like she was making sure she will be alone. 

And she also doesn’t comment on Arya’s life anymore, all discreet malices gone.

Something is definitely wrong, Arya thinks, and her older sister’s behaviour only proves her right. And as she has a lot of free time, now that Theon is gone and no one teaches her to fight anymore, she decides to figure out what exactly is wrong with Sansa. 

She only sees it after a few days of constant following her, when she notice what actually Sansa is emroidering on her dress. 

A kraken.

Of course, Arya smirks, Sansa misses Theon. The mystery is solved, there is nothing to do here anymore. Except Arya feels she should do something. Father, Jon and Robb left, and she couldn’t help it. Bran can’t walk, and she can’t help it either. But for Sansa, her ironically most distant sibling, she actually can do something. 

She just needs to find out what. 

The answer comes the same day, as Arya watches her mother’s joy at the letters that came from father. Of course, she thinks, and punches herself on the forehead, just to storm off from the Great Hall and run to find Sansa. 

She barges into her sister’s room, and grins widely. 

\- Get out your quill and ink. You are writing a letter. Just quickly, mother will start writing soon as well!

Sansa looks at her sister confused, but as Arya explains her idea, the older girl’s face lights up, and finally she hugs her baby sister, and then sits down at the table to sketch sentences quickly. 

Two weeks later Theon Greyjoy gets the first letter from his intended. 

***

They win the battles, of course they do. And it brings them joy and satisfaction. They won’t lose the war. But Robb is pretty sure that they won’t win it either. 

It could go on for years, he realizes, the Lannisters will send more and more and more forces until they are broke or we will fight them until all our soldiers are dead. And gods know Tywin Lannister has enough gold to survive even hundred years. 

They need allies, not because they are weak but because their enemy can get stronger. 

He looks at the map: Dorne, Reach, Stormlands, Riverlands, Iron Islands, North, Crownlands, Westerlands and the Vale. 

Dorne and the Vale are neutral, and unlikely to join the war. Reach stands behind Renly, Stormlands are Stanis’s. 

That leaves the Iron Islands. 

He puts his hand on them, and sighs. His father enters on him like that, and understands right away. 

Robb feels his hand being covered by another one, with harsh skin and network of vains he knows since he’s been a child. 

Father and son look into each other’s eyes. Then Eddard Stark raises his hand and heads to the exit from the tent. 

\- I will summon Theon. 

***

He stares at his home (or is it still his home?). It is smaller, dirtier and plainer than what he remembered it like (but again, he inamgined it so many times, he can’t quite tell if it ever really was grand, or maybe it was all his imagination and homesickness). 

He breathes in the sea air, and at least that is exactly like he remembered it: salty, cold and refreshing. 

But there is no more time for overthinking his current situation. Yara, his sister he has known for two days now, gives him a crooked, sarcastic smile. 

\- Scared?

He shrugs his arms.

\- Just surprised. It is different than I remembered. You are different as well. 

\- You are not. Still have mother’s eyes and that stupid smile. That’s how I recognized you. 

\- Why didn’t you tell me right away?

\- I wanted to see who you actually are. 

He wants to ask if she liked what she observed, but gives the idea up. He doesn’t want her to think that ha cares about their opinion.

\- Let’s meet with father.

He says instead.

***

\- We do not saw. Don’t you remember our house words, boy? Or have they made a greenlander out of you?

\- They haven’t. They could never-

\- Then you should know the ironborn don’t make deals. 

Yara cuts in before Theon can’t respond. 

\- But the news you bring us is good, brother. The Starks need help in their south war. 

His sister and father share a stare, and suddendly Balon Greyjoy smiles. 

\- Aye. And we shall help bring them down in the North. All three of us, I hope, son. 

Theon feels their eyes on him, and he feels as if he is falling down from a cliff. 

***

\- You didn’t think we would let you out, did you? 

Yara stands in the door of the room they locked him in, her smirk slightly annoyed. He looks heavily into her eyes, without a word. She gets closer to him. Her voice now visibly shows anger. 

\- If you care about those Starks so much, why didn’t you lie for them? Why not bertray your real family completely?

Her voice isn’t loud, but intense with fury. His on the ther hand is calm, flat, almost cold. 

\- My family gave me up. Father gave me up, back then. 

She laughs from the back of her throat.

\- They took you-!

\- I remember Yara. I remember how mother cried, and how you couldn’t look me in the eyes. And I remember father kneeling in front of Lord Stark and not even raising his head as they took me. The great warrior, the Ironborn that does not fear and does not saw, letting strangers take his last son without a fight!

His sister looks at him with pure disdain now, moves away and stands next to the window, looking away. 

\- You don’t understand. You don’t understand a single thing and yet you think you can judge us!

\- I only return the favour!

Yara shoves the door behind her as she leaves. 

He lays on the floor and stares into the ceiling, clenching his fists, tears slowly falling from his eyes, rolling down the cheeks and soaking into his hair. 

***

Sansa sits nervously at the table, her mother and Arya next to her. All three of them try to remain calm, and almost succeed. It is only a closer look that reveals Arya is biting the inside of her cheeks, Sansa moving her foot slightly and Catelyn closing her eyes nervously every few seconds. 

It has become a ritual for those three women (or rather a woman, a girl and the one in between the stages of growing). Soon Maester Luwin shall knock on the door and announce that the rider with letters arrived. And then they will stand up all at once, and take the papers from the old man’s hands, their movements in a forced, slow pace. About an hour later, when each one has become acquinted with all the news, they will start breathing deeply again, at least for a few days, before they will begin to worry about the new soon arriving news. 

This time Maester Luwin enters the room with the same subtle sound of his chains, and they greet him the same way they usually do. 

The only difference is, there is one letter missing, and Sansa’s hands stay empty while her mind gets painfully full with fears. 

***

He has been in this room for at least four days, he counts and curses under his breath. Four days means with every passing one his family is more likely to attack his other family. 

He is not numb anymore, nor is he sad. No, right now Theon is pissed off, and being locked, hungry and cold only makes him more pissed. 

He has to get out, he realises, and run away from Pyke, or at least die trying. If he doesn’t he will just rot here, and deaths of thousands will be his fault. 

He stares at the small window with dark eyes. The window itself is what angers him the most: it is too small to make escaping possible, but too big to make the idea ridicolous. Too high to survive the fall, but low enough that he is tempted to try (or maybe it is just his frustration talking, he doesn’t know). 

Just as he starts to consider whether taking four guards on his own and then running through a castle he barely even knows are a good option, his door opens. He jumps up, and that way he is standing eye to eye with his older sister. 

She is different than the last time, calmer, as if she was too lost in her own thoughts to properly notice him. 

She stares at him in silence, so he clears his throat and tries to remain polite this time. 

\- To what do I owe the pleasure?

Yara’s eyes get clearer, as if she only now realised what she is doing. 

\- We are leaving soon. 

\- So that’s a goodbye. 

She turns her head to the side and looks down. 

\- I don’t know yet. 

He nods his head slightly.

\- Tell me when you decide. 

\- You tell me. 

She looks into his eyes again, and suddendly curses under her breath. 

\- I wish life was less complicated.

\- Tell me about it. 

Two siblings almost smile at each other, but their face muscles hide their emotions well. 

Yara puts her hands on her hips, as if she was trying to add herself some spirit. 

\- You said we abandoned you. Will you abandon us, should anything happen?

\- You are my family. 

\- Will you?!

\- No. 

She sighs and opens her mouth to speak again, when he cuts in.

\- I will not bertray my family Yara. Either of them. 

She closes her mouth and sighs. 

\- That’s what I meant by complicated. 

She turns around, and leaves, then he hears her voice as she is talking to the guards. 

They will kill me, he thinks. She wanted to save me, give me a last chance to join them. 

But Sansa, Robb and Starks.

They will kill him now. Because he disappointed them.

Would Lord Eddard kill him as well if he disappointed him?

Theon closes his eyes, waiting for someone to enter with an axe, or maybe they will throw him to the sea (an Ironborn who drowned, he imagines how his father would laugh). 

But death doesn’t come, nothing does. 

He carefully opens his eyes, and he is in the same room he’s been in for days. Something seems different though. 

He gets to the door in small steps, and tries to hear something through the wood. as he is pressing his ear to the door, he feels them move. 

He gets up from his knees. No one is coming in. 

No one is outside either. 

He stares at an empty corridor, still processing what actually is happening. 

And then he runs, without looking back. 

A few hours later the Iron fleet sets off as well. 

***

\- A message for you, my Lord. 

Eddard Stark nods and rolls out the piece of paper. 

A few minutes later his face frowns into an even more serious expression. 

\- Find my son and tell him it is urgent. 

\- Of course, my Lord. 

He then stares at the map placed on the table, and starts rumbling his fingers against the wood. 

His eyes stop on the Stormlands, as his mind starts to adjust to the situation. 

***

Catelyn lets down the latest letter from her husband, her face frowned in the look of confusion and horror. 

\- Renly Baratheon is dead. 

Sansa lookes up at her mother from her own letter. 

\- What happened?

Her mother exchanges a look with her. 

\- His brother killed him. Or a shadow with Stannis’s face. 

\- Shadow? 

Sansa repeats sceptically, while Catelyn lays the letter on the table. 

\- That’s what your father swears happened. 

\- Father was there? In the Reach? Why?

\- I have no idea. He hasn’t written yet. 

With that words Lady Stark picks the letter up again, and continues reading. Sansa doesn’t come back to her reading though, but stares at her mother’s face instead. Soon she notices the expression of horror is back at it again. 

\- Mother?

Catelyn gets up to sit closer to her oldest daughter. 

\- The Ironborn are going to attack the North. 

Sansa’s mouth drops open, and her face goes pale. 

\- Theon?

She manages to choke out. 

\- He informed your father about that. But..

\- But what?

\- They haven’t heard from him ever since. 

***

Everything is a mess, the camp, this war, their plans and now even his head. 

He wishes Theon was here, he misses him and really needs a friend right now. He wishes someone told him what’s wrong and what right. His father does, of course, and Robb trusts him, but in thise dark times even Ned Stark is unsure and confused. 

There are Lannisters somewhere out there, even if they haven’t shown their claws for quite a while now. And then there are the Ironborn, and Stannis, and more issues he wishes he didn’t have to think about. 

Robb thought it foolish of his father to go to Renly in order to make him an ally while still considering Stannis the rightful ruler, but even he couldn’t foresee what would end up happening. 

Now Renly is dead, Stannis is a murderer and his father seems lost. 

Not to mention the Tyrells. 

They are needed and welcomed, of course, or at least their soldiers are. But using the Tyrell army means going against Stannis, as Loras and his sister won’t ever accept Renly’s killer as the king. 

Speaking of, Margaery Tyrell is another source of his confusion. 

His father promised them nothing, and yet the Tyrells came. Margaery has been promised nothing either, and she still came as well. 

She is beautiful, of course she is. And clever, the way she talks about this whole war and their strategies. Also considerate, he thinks, as he recalls her helping the wounded and ill. 

And yet something about her sets him on edge, and he can’t afford to lose his focus, not now. And certainly not when she just lost her husband and is still mourning. (Excep when she smiles at him or looks into his eyes, she doesn’t seem mourning at all; she is only sad when she looks at Loras, that worried expression on her face that she tries to conceal with fake smiles). 

Robb tries to shake her off his mind and focus on the strategies. He smiles as he realizes they might actually win now, not just not lose. 

***

The Ironborn strike on the coast before the forces lead by lord Stark arrive. The situation is not awful, yet, but it is not great either. 

Sansa is scared, not just for herself and her family, but also for all those people they are supposed to protect, for those that already fell dead. And she worries about Theon. 

She wonders where he is, where he is heading and if nothing happened to him already. If he heard her thoughts he would probably laugh, and tease her about caring for him too much. As she thinks of that she gets even sadder. 

Sometimes she tries to read his olders letters, and it helps for a bit. But as she finishes the last one she starts to count how long it’s been since he last wrote, and it leaves her restless again. 

But of course there is not much time to brood (when was there, since all that mess started) and she gets sucked into helping mother prepare Winterfell for father and his forces arrival (it is alsoa preparation for eventual attack, but no one says it aloud). 

When her father does come, and hugs her mother tightly in front of everyone (which is unusual for them, usually so privateabout their feelings). And as Sansa sees them, she is happy, but a thought appears in her minds, and doesn’t go away.

Will I ever hug Theon again? 

***

Theon arrives back at the camp in the worst possible moment” when his family’s attacks on the North are the worst.

Northmen whose families are threatened by his want to kill him. He isn’t surprised. He just tries to laugh it off, and of course they hate him even more for that. 

He gets in a few fights here and there, gets drunk a couple times and writes about half a dozen of letters to Sansa at once, and finally he feels normal again. 

But just as he gets normal, Robb gets weird. 

It is only after a couple weeks Theon realizes his best friend is in love. 

He writes to Sansa about it, and about other things as well, and as he signs the letter he realizes he is not any better than Robb. 

He just hopes Sansa will grow to accept those feelings as much as Margaery returns Robb’s. 

***

It takes quite some time, but finally the war is over. 

Robb is called the King, and as much as hates it, he is one. Good thing is, Margaery very much likes to be the queen, and is rather good at it too. 

After losing the rebellion (what Yara suspected would happen) and their Lord as well, the Ironborn were supposed to choose their next leader. Theon showed up at Pyke then, and to everyone’s surprise convinced the men to chose Yara. 

As stubborn as she is, she is also a great leader. 

And quite a good sister, Theon thinks, as she looksat him with that characteristic smirk. 

\- You look quite well brother. Maybe your bride won’t run away after all. 

\- I certainly hope so. 

He and Sansa are wed in the godswood. This time at least, as in a week or two they shall be wed at Pyke again, in his faith. 

But now she walks towards him in a grey dress, with a grey cloak on her shoulders, and he smiles as he sees tiny blue roses embroidered on her sleeves. 

I am hers and she is mine. 

Her wedding is so much different than she always imagined, and that makes it even more perfect. She can see Robb and Margaery’s faces as she walks to the heart tree, her fathers hand under hers is warm and stable. And then she sees Theon, in his black and gold cloak, that she knows will son fall on her shoulders. Her heart beats so fast and so loud, as if it was going to jump from her chest. 

I am his and he is mine. 

They dance together at their wedding feast, and she feels her face will hurt soon from smiling, but she just can’t help herself. 

He thinks of all the dances they will share with each other after this one, and smiles as well. 

And as they stare into each other’s eyes like no one else was in the room, Eddard Stark looks at them, and his solemn face is lightened up by a tender smile.


End file.
